Shadowy Past
by warriorsgirl664
Summary: IchabodXOC Clara Van Tassel has never known where she has come from, until Constable Crane comes to investigate the murders of the Headless Horsman. MOVIE BASED!
1. Orphan Child

I got sooooo inspired by the Sleepy Hollow stories I was reading and wanted to write my own!

Clara Van Tassel is mine, but nothing else is (darn!) Anyways, I'm not telling you who she is or why she is in this story. You just have to read or guess.

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Outside was cold and dark as the storm raged on. Even though it seemed like Mother Nature was having a fit in the darkness of piercing rain and loud thunder, inside it was nice and peaceful. The cottage at the very middle of the Western Woods was the only refuge in the dark forest of trees. Inside, the warmness of the fire lapping at the sides of the fireplace was a comforting and yet a hypnotizing sight. The smell of fresh bread wafted in the air as the smoke was carefully fanned to the opening of the fireplace by a young girl. Around the age of 5, the girl did most of the chores around the house ever since her mother had fallen sick around 2 months ago.

"Carefully wave the fan Katrina. You don't want any smoke inside the house." An older man said from behind the small girl.

Katrina looked back at him and slowed her waves of the fan until the smoke circulated out of the house.

"Good, you're learning quickly." The man said, proud sparks of light shining in his eyes.

Katrina smiled with happiness. She had always tried to make her parents proud and she really had to take care of things ever since illness claimed her mother.

"Is mommy's nurse coming soon?" she asked in a sweet, soft voice.

Stroking her light blonde hair, the man nodded. "Yes. She's coming tomorrow. She will help mommy feel lots better." He said, although privately, he knew it may be too late for the woman he loved so dearly.

Katrina nodded and slowly set down the fan, walking in a graceful, yet childish way to the kitchen. Slowly, she set the loaf of bread on the wooden table. "Daddy, the bread is ready now." She said to him.

Her father, a simple farmer named Baltus, lifted himself from the small chair near the fire and walked over into the other room where his wife was sleeping in bed. Not wanting to disturb her, he quietly walked back to his daughter.

"Your mother is sleeping, so we should be extra quiet so she gets some peaceful sleep." He said in a quiet voice.

Katrina nodded, but turned her head in the direction of their door as there was a soft knocking. Narrowing her eyes with confusion she walked over, looking back at her father with wonder.

Her father watched carefully as she opened the door and stopped, looking down at something.

"Katrina, close the door, it's too cold." He said, shivering a bit.

"But father, look." Katrina whispered.

Baltus walked over to the door, wincing as rain drops hit his face like pins and needles. Katrina moved aside to let her father see. Looking down, Baltus's eyes widened with surprise.

A young child, covered with blankets lay at their door step. There was a note inside the bundle and as Katrina slowly picked up the baby with care, Baltus read the note.

_An orphaned child such as this one needs a loving home._

_Her mother has died of a fatal illness,_

_And her father has been killed in battle._

_Take care of her for the years she needs it_

_And when the time comes, I will return for her_

_Her name is Clara._

Baltus looked at the baby and noticed many features that he had not seen before. The child's very first sprouts of hair looked so dark, they seemed black. Ice cold blue eyes were looking at him, while slender arms reached out at Katrina.

"An orphan child." Baltus finally said.

"Oh the poor dear! Left alone in the cold and rain." Katrina soothed the child with slow and gentle rocking. The child giggled at her and cooed with cute and innocence.

"Oh father, may we keep her?" Katrina asked her dark brown eyes filled with pleading.

Baltus hesitated for a moment. It would be much easier to bring the child to the near-by orphanage in the town a few miles away from Sleepy Hollow, but looking in the eyes of his daughter, he finally sighed.

"Alright Katrina, we may keep the child, but only as long as you promise to take care of her." Baltus half-laughed for he realized he had given her the same speech when she had brought a stray cat home around 8 months ago.

Katrina nodded vigorously. "I will! Don't worry!" Katrina soon walked over to her sleeping quarters to arrange a place for the child to sleep until she could go buy a bed in the morning.

Sitting in his chair with some tasty bread in hand, Baltus looked over the note again and again. It seemed rather strange that a child would be left outside his doorstep. His, of all people, and with a strange note too.

"Clara…" he said the child's voice aloud and then went over it many times in his head. He knew something didn't seem right, but knew that right now, raising the child was the first thing he planned to do. To turn Clara into a smart, strong and true Van Tassel.


	2. Dangerous Ride

I'm so sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry this chapter took so long! I have been the busiest ever trying to get my grades up in school, but the next chapter won't take this long.

Clara belongs to me, but nothing else does.

* * *

"Clara, come on and hurry up with the firewood!" Katrina shouted.

Clara rolled her blue eyes. Katrina seemed a little antsy and grumpy these days and it wasn't because of the cold weather. Clara quickly picked up the firewood and carried it gently to her house. Katrina took the wood from her and placed it in the already burning fire. Slowly sitting down near it, Katrina shivered.

"It's too cold." She muttered. Clara sat next to her and slowly started rubbing her arm. Katrina gave her a grateful look and then looked back into the fire.

"Sleepy Hollow is a much different place now." Katrina said quietly.

"How so?" Clara questioned her.

"Many people report seeing…things in the Western Woods." Katrina hesitated at the word thing.

Clara stood up, dusting herself off. "It has always been haunted there. No different since I have been here."

Katrina gave her a strange look, as if she was hiding something, but her dark brown eyes betrayed nothing as Clara looked down.

Slowly helping her up, Clara walked outside and took a breath of fresh air. She smiled with happiness. Clara was full grown now, almost as old as Katrina. Her dark brown hair, some people thought it was black, was a bit long, about an inch below her shoulders and was very wavy, as if she had braided it and undone the braid. Her crystal blue eyes were like ice chips when she was angry, but glistening pools of water when happy. She had a slender figure and wore a dark blue dress.

One thing she always wore was her amulet. She had had it since she was born. It was a black oval with the picture of a sword and an axe crossing drawn in gold.

Katrina seemed to smile too, very slightly, but it was a smile. She started walking down the roadway of Sleepy Hollow, Clara following close behind.

Katrina was like an older sister to Clara, the only one close to her. She had heard the story of how she had ended up in Sleepy Hollow many times and knew she really wasn't related to Katrina, no matter how much she wanted to be.

After she was old enough, they had tried to track down who her parents were. Apparently, her mother was a midwife in a town a few days travel from here. Her name had been Sheryl Iden. She had given birth to Clara right before illness had taken her life. But no matter how hard they tried, they could not track down Clara's father. He had been killed in battle, but that was too specific for Clara and she had given up, leaving her old parents behind and settled in with her new family.

Clara had been so distracted in her thoughts; she hadn't seen Katrina stop in her tracks, right in front of the house of the Widow Winship.

"What is it Katrina?" Clara asked. She didn't know what had caused her to stop.

"Clara, what time is it?" Katrina asked.

Clara looked up at the sun. It was almost above them, but not quite. "Almost noon, why?"

"The widow usually makes her way to our house with a basket full of eggs around this time." Katrina murmured.

Clara shrugged, not grasping why her friend was so worried. "Maybe she already left."

"No, look." Katrina said, pointing to an empty basket right outside the door. Fear clutched Clara's heart.

Trying to sound brave, she responded, "Well, maybe she slept in today…" she trailed off, afraid of what both she and her friend were thinking.

Katrina rushed past Clara, almost breaking down the door, and ran into the house to find her friend. Clara walked more slowly when she noticed a gust of harsh wind sweeping over the town. She then followed Katrina inside.

Once she found her friend again, she helped her look for the Widow. Everyone knew Emily. She was sweet, kind and never judged anyone because of where they came from, which made Clara like her more.

Of course, when Clara and Katrina went up to the bedroom, they discovered a body. The body was on the floor, limbs spread awkwardly and clothes stained with blood. The thing though that made Clara turn away, into the arms of her friend, was that the head was gone…no where to be found.

Clara coughed a bit, before she looked again. "Emily."

Katrina cringed and slowly nodded. "Yes, it is her."

"What's left of her." Clara whispered.

Katrina took her friend by the shoulders and led her away from the sight. Walking out of the house, Katrina caught sight of Steenwick and walked over to him, explaining what she just saw.

Clara looked back at the house with such great regret she couldn't have helped Emily before she was killed, but it was too late.

A sudden noise off in the Western Woods distracted her. She turned her head sharply and thought she saw someone watching her, a dark shape hidden in the shadows of the trees, but when she blinked, it was gone.

Clara wanted to go into the forest and find who it was, but she stopped herself. She was a young woman that needed to find a new way to turn her life around. She didn't notice Katrina next to her, clearly concerned.

"Clara, you okay?" she asked.

Clara shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Yeah, yeah I'm okay. I think I'm going to go riding for a bit."

Katrina looked like she was going to protest, but Clara was already walking to the Killian's stable, where her horse was kept. Walking out, she had the reins of her gorgeous black mare, Luna. The horse had a pure black pelt with many tiny dots on her, looking like her whole body was the night sky.

"Hey there, miss me?" she whispered to her friend. The mare began shaking her head up and down, her black hair tossed in the wind. Clara smiled and slowly got on the horse. Pulling the reins gently, she led Luna out of the safety of Sleepy Hollow and into the Western Woods.

It was dark, much darker than woods should normally be, but Clara didn't care. The wind parted her hair and it was swooped backwards, making her look free. She just closed her pale blue eyes, enjoying the cool wind against the face. As if it ended all too soon, Luna stopped short, almost knocking Clara off her. Smoothing her hair back, Clara looked at her petrified horse.

"Luna, what's wrong?" she asked the horse gently. She stared out to try and see what Luna was looking at, but it seemed that whatever it was, if there was anything, was hidden.

Clara had a feeling of unease crawling up her spine. She kept looking behind her, to her right and left. The woods suddenly seemed more dangerous than she imagined. She pulled on the reins, wanting to return to the town.

"Come on Luna." She said softly. But the horse refused to move. Clara felt a little scared at first, but pulled a little more firmly, but still, Luna stayed fixed in place. Clara almost raised her voice at the horse, when there was a rustle behind her. Clara's eyes shot wide opened, as if she too were frozen in spot.

Turning around slowly, she gulped, seeing no one was there. Suddenly before she tried to coax Luna again, there was an angry neigh in the distance. She couldn't tell where it was coming from, but it was a real sound. Suddenly Luna took off, catching Clara bit off guard, but the young girl held the reins tightly as her horse broke off into full gallop.

Clara really didn't want the horse to stop. She wanted out of these woods now. She got on the horses back properly before she looked to see a dark shape in front of her. She squinted to try and see what it was, but it was getting larger as if it was coming forward.

Almost before she could say anything, she felt something slam into her, knocking her off of Luna and onto the ground. Shaking the grass and dirt off of herself, she held her head and groaned.

"What in God's name was…" she didn't finish, for she saw that Luna was gone, run off. Rolling her eyes, she stood up and tried to make her way through the brush she had just landed in, but froze right on the spot, not moving and inch.

She was standing right in front of a huge black horse, but this horse was much much bigger than any horse she had seen in her life. The horse's eyes seemed almost narrowed with anger as it looked straight into her eyes. Her gaze traveled up the horse until her terrified eyes rested on the rider.

He looked just like everyone said he did, dark and well headless. She felt her heart beat faster. Even though the horse was obviously staring at her, she could feel his invisible gaze burning into her.

Finally, as if the shock and fear was too much, Clara felt her eyes roll back into her head and a soft thump before their was darkness.


	3. Thoughts

Soooooooooo sorry this took so long, but do not fret. I will never give up on this story. Never!

Sleepy Hollow and it's characters are not mie, but Clara is!:)

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It was like she was half asleep and half awake because Clara knew she could not clearly identify her surroundings, but from the way her blurred vision produced the pictures of the world, she knew she was outside, still in the Western Woods

It was like she was half asleep and half awake because Clara knew she could not clearly identify her surroundings, but from the way her blurred vision produced the pictures of the world, she knew she was outside, still in the Western Woods. She wanted to get up, but her body would not obey her commands. She just lay there, in the grass.

Suddenly, as if her thoughts were stopped in her head, paused for a moment, she could sense someone else near her, or rather behind her. Her blue eyes opened rather wide. She was fully awake now. A very faint shadow was cast over her and she almost whimpered with fear. She closed her eyes, preparing herself for whatever fate was coming.

But her eyes opened again as she felt someone stroking her dark brown hair. She didn't really know what was going to happen to her or if she was in real danger, but as if the person could read her thoughts, she could feel the presence leaving her. Pretending she was not awake, she watched as the person rode off on his horse, but it was not a person she was expecting. It was the horseman.

Once she was sure he was gone, she looked off into the direction the horse had gone. Terrified out of her mind, she debated whether she should stay or not, but her fear finally took over and she slowly stood up. Luna was no where to be found, but knowing her horse, the frightened mare was probably back in the stables. Then, in a scared manner, she fled from her grassy bed and off into the darkness of the woods. She slowly made her way through the trees. Soon, she found herself back in the main part of town, but people were staring at her. Unused to all the attention, she trotted over to her house upon the huge hill.

Knocking on the huge door, she waited patiently for someone to answer. Soon the door opened and Katrina's face popped out. Once the young girl saw who it was, she literally tackled Clara to the ground with a cry of happiness. "You have returned! Are you alright?" she exclaimed.

Clara narrowed her blue eyes playfully and pushed her adopted sister off of her. "Yes, yes I'm fine."

Katrina sighed with relief. "Thank God. Those were the worst 2 days of my life."

Clara froze. "2 days?"

Katrina looked puzzled. "Yes Clara. You have been missing for 2 days."

Clara was shocked. 2 days? It seemed more like a couple hours. Questions suddenly popped into her mind. What had happened in those 2 days? Was she okay? How long had she been in the horseman's possession? The though of the demon ghost made her shiver. He had not killed her like he should have. In fact, he had been very gentle with her; almost like he was making sure she was okay after she fainted.

Katrina looked at her worried. "Clara, what happened out there?"

Part of Clara's inner mind told her to shut her mouth, while the other just wanted to pour out the thoughts. "Oh nothing. I was unconscious most of the time." At least that was the truth.

Katrina brightened. "Father has called a representative from New York to investigate all the murders going around."

Clara raised an eyebrow. "Any idea on who their name is?"

Katrina shook her head. "Not yet, but he arrives tonight."

Clara looked confused. "But tonight's father's annual party with the town isn't it?"

Katrina's face brightened even more. "Yes. I haven't seen Brom in it seems years. It will be nice to see him again."

Clara narrowed her eyes. "You mean more like 2 days lover girl?" she teased.

Katrina narrowed her chocolate brown eyes right back at her. "Get into the house and get ready. The party starts in a few hours."

Clara just scurried on in and ran up the stairs to her room. Even though the thought of a new face in Sleepy Hollow made her happy, the though of the horseman flooded her mind and her face fell.

Why wasn't he as evil as everyone said he was? It wasn't because she was a woman, she was sure of that. Was it because of her age? No. no it couldn't be that.

As she quickly rampaged through her closet, she found the perfect dress. It was a gorgeous dark, almost back, blue. The collar was a light grey, while darker grey flecks spotted it. Smiling, she quickly undresses from her dirty, ratted light blue dress to her new clean on.

Walking over to her mirror, she gasped as she saw how dreadful her hair was. Tangled with bits of branches and twigs in all places, she shuddered. Grabbing her brush, she did her best to brush her dark dark brown hair clean. She winced as she hit a knot or poked herself, but kept on brushing.

Her bright blue eyes looked into the mirror at her slightly pale face and they almost started watering. She felt like a tortured soul. A poor tortured soul that needed a purpose.

She smirked as she found herself almost crying. Why was she crying? She had no reason to. She sighed very slowly before she collected her emotions and continued to brush her almost black hair until it was smooth and shiny.

When she was finished, she looked out the window and into the woods. She sighed with such sorrow at the thought of leaving without being told. She then turned away, but before she did, a flash of pure black made her look again, but it was gone like that.

Staring out her window, she gazed into the darkness of the shadowy woods. She felt such a bond to this town; she felt everyone was her family. Hearing stories of the Headless Horseman always brought shivers up her spine, but in a way, she felt sympathy for him.

"Please, I want to see you again." She whispered, almost hoping he could hear her before she rushed downstairs.


	4. Constable Crane

**Okay, fourth chapter. Please give me some reveiws! Please?**

* * *

"Never thought of someone who has such a high rank in one of the most beautiful cities in the world to come here." Clara muttered.

"It's a blessing someone is here to help." Sara, the servant girl said, rearranging the furniture all around the room. Clara stopped looking out the window into the star-lit sky and helped her move the bed over near the window.

"Mistress Clara, why are you not down at the party? I'm sure many missed you while you were gone." Sara asked, brushing the dirt off her blue dress.

Clara groaned and rolled her eyes. "Sure some might have, but others…" she trailed off and Sara understood. Clara was the second child of the Van Tassels, therefore not entitled to have everything Katrina had. Sara knew Clara didn't really hope for anything like that, but the young girl did want a husband to share her life with. The unfortunate thing was that most of the men in Sleepy Hollow were either married or did not want to have a spouse.

Sara placed a friendly hand on her friend's shoulder. "It will all turn for the better. You will see. Once the criminal is put behind bars of course."

Clara smiled softly but couldn't help but think back to a few hours ago when she was in the forest. She didn't really believe that the horseman was the real murderer because of how gentle he was with her. However, there was no one else to suspect.

"Shall I tell Katrina you will be down soon?" Sara asked.

Clara nodded absent-mindedly, still lost in her thoughts. Sara excused herself and left the room. Clara slowly followed, but took one more second to look out into the Western Woods. Knowing that this would get her no where, she left the room.

Walking down the hallway, Clara nearly bumped into her foster mother. She looked quiet surprised, but then again, she always looked surprised when she saw Clara.

"Your father wants you." She said in a quiet tone. Clara was confused. Walking in the opposite direction than she intended to go, she walked to her father's study room where she knocked on the door and opened it.

"Clara, thank you for coming." Baltus said.

"You summoned me father. I would chose nothing else." She said, respectfully bowing her head slightly.

Baltus never really chose between his two daughters and even though she was not his, he had to admit Clara was the more proper and graceful.

"Listen to me. I have called for the Constable and once I have finished talking with him, please show him around if you please."

Clara nodded. "As you wish."

Katrina and her mother came through the door, along with Doctor Lancaster, with a guilty look on his face, Magistrate Philipse, looking drunk as usual, Reverend Steenwyck, a grim expression glued in his dark eyes and Notary Hardenbrook, looking as old as he possibly could.

Clara always felt a wave of compassion towards the four men. All were under a great deal of stress and were dealing with it the best way they could. The three murders didn't make it any better either.

Clara excused herself as the five men started talking and started whispering to Katrina. "Any idea who has done it yet?"

Katrina looked confused. "How would I know?"

Clara rolled her eyes. "You talk to everyone in the town. You must have some idea."

"You do too." Katrina said calmly.

"Not as much as you."

"Yes you do!" Katrina shot her adopted sister a glare.

Clara opened her mouth to give a stinging retort, but closed it as the door opened once again. Sara was leading in someone Clara did not recognize. He had raven black hair, a pale face and a trim figure. Clara's ice blue gaze drifted to his dark chocolate brown eyes, which were filled with nervousness.

"Ahh excellent! Come in." Baltus said. The man stepped inside the room, still looking nervous.

"Leave us my dear." Baltus said to his wife, who bowed and walked out, Katrina following. Clara stayed put, just as her father would want her to do.

Clara sat down in the nearest chair, pulling her hair behind her ears and blinking a few times. She kept her eyes on the constable, who noticed she was looking at him and quickly looked away, tending to his stacked books.

Baltus introduced all four of the important men in the town individually and respectfully.

"This is my daughter, Clara Van Tassel who will be joining us for this meeting." Clara politely dipped her head to him.

"And you are?" he asked, seeming to ignore Clara, making her tilt her head to one side for a moment.

"A simple farmer…who has prospered." Baltus said. There was an edge to his voice as if he wanted to say more, but Clara cut him off.

"Father that is more than an introduction. We should let Constable Crane start." She said. Baltus looked at his daughter surprised at her interruption, but the four other men seemed to chuckle softly at her. She pouted. Everyone still treated her like a child.

"Thank you." The constable said, not looking at her. Closing his book, he started circling the room.

"So…three persons murdered. First, Peter Van Garret and his son, Dirk Van Garret…both of tem strong, capable men…" he started near Baltus and now made his way over to Steenwyck, speaking to his right side.

"Found together…decapitated." Clara giggled softly at how he stressed the word. Lancaster gave her a silent look to be quiet.

"A few weeks later, the Widow Winship…" he had now moved to Steenwyck's left side. "Also decapitated." The reverend's eyes moved dangerously towards the smaller man.

"Now I will need to ask you a number of questions but first, is anyone suspected?" the constable asked after finishing and now facing everyone in the room.

Philipse choked on his drink and both Clara and Hardenbrook gave each other a knowing glace.

Baltus hesitated for a moment. "How much have your superiors explained to you Constable?"

The constable looked rather confused. "Only that the three were slain in open ground, their heads found severed from their bodies."

Steenwyck spoke up for the first time. "Their heads were not found severed…their heads were not found at all."

Constable Crane lost a bit of color from his already pale face. "The heads are gone?"

"Taken. Taken by the Headless Horseman…" Hardenbrook started in his raspy voice. "Taken back to Hell."

"I'm…I'm sorry but…" Crane started, but Baltus cut him off.

"Perhaps, you had better sit down." He said quietly.

The constable sat down, looking like he was going to protest. Clara looked like she was too, but another look from the town doctor told her to be silent.

"Clara, why don't you go make some more tea for the constable?" Baltus asked, sensing his daughter's uneasiness. Clara nodded and walked out of the room. She could not hear about the horseman now. Not today.

Walking down to the kitchen area, she bumped into her sister and murmured her apologies before sitting in one of the wooden chairs. Almost all the guests were around the living room and huge ballroom, so Clara and Katrina had some peace.

"I need some more tea." Clara said and Katrina nodded, lighting some fire on the hot stove. She then turned to her black haired sister.

"What is troubling you Clara?"

A pair of icy orbs turned on her. "Huh?"

"You seem so distant and sad ever since you came home this morning. What happened?" Katrina asked, her brown eyes willed with concern.

Clara blinked. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Katrina raised an eyebrow. "Clara…"

Knowing that Katrina would not leave her be without a truthful answer, she just sighed. "Fine. I just felt so…helpless when I was missing, you know?"

Katrina blinked. "What happened when you were gone Clara."

Clara slumped her shoulders and crossed her trim legs. "I told you, I was asleep the whole time."

"What happened when you woke up?"

"Where is this going Katrina?"

"Answer the question."

Clara was a bit shocked at Katrina's sharpness. "Uhh, I just ran out before anything could happen or find me."

"Clara, I want to help you. Please tell me. I won't be upset." Katrina said, pleading to her.

Clara just looking into the blonde's eyes for a moment before she shook her head and gulped. "I…I saw him."

Katrina's eyes widened. "The hessian?"

When Clara nodded, Katrina gasped softly. "He didn't hurt you did he?"

Clara stood up and paced a bit. "That's the thing. He never did. I…What did I do?"

Katrina still seemed shocked. "Clara…I…I don't know."

The two shared silence for a moment before Clara made or the back door. "Wait Clara, where are you going?"

Clara looked at her with a sad smile. "I need some air to clear my head. I'll be back soon." She replied before Katrina could answer.

Making her way out of the limits of her house and to the stables, she stopped and looked at the moon. Its beautiful blue and white shine was so enchanting to Clara; she just couldn't take her eyes off it. She stars were shining so brightly it made night seem like a dark day.

A sudden twig snap made her turn her head. The horses in the stable were becoming nervous, making Clara nervous.

"If it's anyone in town who is just trying to scare me, you had better knock it off because I'm not afraid of you, but if it's the hessian, I…I'm not scared of you either, but don't hide in the shadows." She was just looking around.

No answer.

"Please?" she whispered.

As if right on cue, a midnight black horse jumped almost right over her and landed with a thud in front of her.


	5. The Hessian

****

Thank you for the reveiws everyone! I was going to not finnish this, but I know you all still want me too! I still want reveiws though. Please please please!

**The song is "Her Ghost in the Fog" by Cradle of Filth. Also, Clara is the only thing in this story that is mine.**

**Enjoy!**

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Clara's eyes froze looking at him. She could not move, speak or even blink. She could feel her chest moving up and down which told her she was still breathing. Everything seemed to stop as she stared at him and, in his own invisible way, looked back at her, his body angled towards her. Daredevil pawed at the ground with unease and Clara could only look up and down rider and horse.

_The Moon, she hangs like a cruel portrait  
Soft winds whisper the bidding of trees  
As this tragedy starts with a shattered glass heart  
And the Midnightmare trampling of dreams_

The moonlight glow seemed to shine on him, making his already demonic and dark features even more evil and dark. Clara didn't want to move for she was still scared of him even though he had done her no wrong. Something inside her told her to speak and move forward, but whether it was her instincts of her own heart, she didn't listen to it. Instead she backed up a bit.

_But oh, no tears please  
Fear and pain may accompany Death  
But it is desire that shepherds it's certainty  
As We shall see..._

The hessian made a move to get off Daredevil, but Clara started whimpering and almost as if he could see her discomfort, he froze and stopped, straightening himself on the saddle. Clara suddenly tilted her head to one side, confused. Had he just stopped himself from coming for her, just because she was acting childish?

_She was divinity's creature  
That kissed the cold mirrors  
A Queen of Snows  
Far beyond compare  
Lips attuned to symmetry  
Sought Her everywhere  
Dark liqoured eyes  
An Arabian nightmare..._

After another few heartbeats of silence that seemed never ending, Daredevil reared up and the hessian on his horse rode towards the woods. Clara couldn't withstand herself anymore. She had to speak. "W…Wait!" she cried, then covered her mouth, realizing what she had just said.

_She shone on watercolours  
Of my pondlife as pearl  
Until those who couldn't have Her  
Cut Her free of this World_

The hessian stopped Daredevil and angled his headless body towards her. Clara shook her black haired head. "Please…" she whispered. She had no idea why, but she had strange feeling that the hessian was an important person in her life. She wasn't madly in love with him, but he seemed like someone she should know.

_That fateful Eve when...  
The trees stank of sunset and camphor  
Their lanterns chased phantoms and threw  
An inquisitive glance, like the shadows they cast  
On my love picking rue by the light of the moon_

The hessian now was not going to leave. He got off Daredevil, making Clara back up a bit. What had she done? He was going to kill her now. As the headless hessian walked closer to her, thoughts poured into her head. What was he doing? Why was he coming after her? What had she done? What about Katrina? What about dad? Would they find her? Would the hessian kill her? Her breathing started to become shallow and her pupils turned small.

_Putting reason to flight  
Or to death as their way  
They crept through woods mesmerized  
By the taffeta Ley  
Of Her hips that held sway  
Over all they surveyed  
Save a mist on the rise  
(A deadly blessing to hide)  
Her ghost in the fog_

As the ghost approached her, Clara braced herself to hear the sword come out of the sheathe and to see nothing but black, but she suddenly felt a gloved hand lift her chin up and she was faced with where the horseman's head should have been. To think that now she was completely numb.

_They raped left...  
(Five men of God)  
...Her ghost in the fog_

Closing her eyes very gently, she felt the back of his hand now touching her pale head. A sudden sense of calmness washed over her and her eyes opened and she could feel it. She couldn't believe it but she could feel it. He wasn't going to hurt her. His gentleness and compassion almost formed a small smile on her face as the thought of death was gone from her mind.

_Dawn discovered Her there  
Beneath the Cedar's stare  
Silk dress torn, Her raven hair  
Flown to gown Her beauty bared  
Was starred with frost, I knew Her lost  
I wept 'til tears crept back to prayer)_

Before Clara could even speak, he left from his place in front of her. Clara shook her head. "Wait! I…I think I…know you." She couldn't help it. She just had that feeling. Turning back, she could almost swear there would be a knowing look on his face if he had one. Then getting onto his horse, he rode away into the darkness.

Clara fell to her knees. She stayed like that for a long time, maybe a few minutes. She couldn't believe what had just happened, but it had and she could not deny it. Rising and looking into the darkness of the woods she sighed and turned towards the house, only to hear a gunshot and a horse neigh.

"Oh no, what has he done?" she whispered and quickly made her way to house, only to cringe when hearing the sickening sound of flesh being torn apart by a steel blade.

She quickly ran upstairs, into her bedroom and ran to her bed, listening to the sound of huge hoof beats clamping on the ground. She felt some tears coming, but she held them back as darkness finally consumed her.

_She'd sworn Me vows in fragrant blood  
"Never to part  
Lest jealous Heaven stole our hearts"_

She began to dream, although they were dreams from Hell. Dreams that were called nightmares.

_Then this I screamed:  
"Come back to Me for  
I was born in love with thee  
So why should fate stand in between?"_

She was in the Western Woods, but she could not see where she was. She knew though that she wasn't the only one here, for a hand placed itself on her shoulder. Turning around, she almost screamed in fear to see the hessian.

_And as I drowned Her gentle curves  
With dreams unsaid and final words  
I espied a gleam trodden to earth  
The Church bell tower key..._

As a shrill squel came from her mouth, his covered hand covered it gently. "Hush darling. I will not harm you." a voice said, thick with a heavy german accent.

_The village mourned her by the by  
For She'd been a witch  
Their Men had longed to try  
And I broke under Christ seeking guilty signs  
My tortured soul on ice_

Clara knew it was the hessian that was talking, even though he had no head to talk from. Once he dropped his hand, she began to speak.

"Why are you so familiar to me?"

_A Queen of snow  
Far beyond compare  
Lips attuned to symmetry  
Sought Her everywhere  
Trappistine eyes  
An Arabian nightmare..._

"I cannot tell you why, but all will be shown to you soon." he said again and Clara felt a wave of calmness wash over her as his gloved hand once again pressed against her forhead.

_She was Ersulie possessed  
Of a milky white skin  
My porcelain Yin  
A graceful Angel of Sin_

Almost at once, he seemed to fade away into the darkness and the calls and cries of demons filled her ears. She felt fear bubbled inside of her. What was she suppose to do now. Almost at once, as if she had been knocked out, another wave of inky blackness poured over her.

_And so for Her...  
The breeze stank of sunset and camphor  
My lantern chased Her phantom and blew  
Their Chapel ablaze and all locked in to a pain  
Best reserved for judgement that their bible construed..._

She woke up, panting. Whatever had happened in her dream was fake, not real. Gasping for breath, she layed back down again and tried to stop shaking.

_Putting reason to flight  
Or to flame unashamed  
I swept form cries  
Mesmerized  
By the taffeta Ley  
Or Her hips that held sway  
Over all those at bay  
Save a mist on the rise  
A final blessing to hide  
Her ghost in the fog_

"What was he talking about?" she wondered aloud before she yawned slightly and cuddeld with her soft pillow and blanket.

_And I embraced  
Where lovers rot...  
Her ghost in the fog_

Glancing at the moon one last time, she smiled slightly before she closed her eyes and prayed for a dreamless sleep.

_Her ghost in the fog_


	6. Deep Down

**

* * *

**

Thank you for the reveiws everyone! It makes me sleep well at night.

* * *

Feeling a cool washrag on her head, her blue eyes shot open and she sat up, panting. She looked around franticly, only to see Katrina's dark brown eyes looking at her, clearly worried.

"Katrina?" Clara rasped and winced as she tried to sit up. There was a shooting pain in the back of her head.

Katrina laid a gentle hand on her sister's chest and pushed her down in a calm manor. "You really shouldn't move. You feel a bit warm Clara." She commented.

Clara laid her head back onto the soft pillow and sighed deeply. Her encounter last night was too much to forget and she would never in a million years tell Katrina. It was just impossible to put into words.

"You came in rather late last night." The blonde remarked while patting the cloth on the brunet's pale forehead.

"I would rather not think about anything. My head hurts enough already." She lied. Katrina looked at her suspiciously, but shrugged it off when Clara sat up and took a sip from the glass of water near her bed.

Getting up, Katrina headed for the door before murmuring. "Better get ready for the funeral."

Clara's head shot up. "What?" she asked clearly interested.

Katrina looked back at her and nodded sadly. "Yes, the servant Masbeth was found…beheaded this morning." She said, pausing a bit.

Clara looked completely shocked. How could this have happened? She had seen the hessian last night. It could have been almost impossible for him and Masbeth to be in the Western Woods at the same time after that. Then she remembered the gunshot and that horrible slicing sound before she had entered her house.

"Clara, are you feeling alright?" Katrina asked, tilting her head to one side.

Shaking her head to clear it, she muttered. "Yeah I'm fine." Getting up, she quickly motioned for Katrina to leave, which earned her a playful glare from her sister before she closed the door.

Clara collected herself before taking a deep sigh. Looking out her window, she noticed that the morning was a bit less foggy than yesterday. Rubbing her sore head very slowly, she shed herself of her old garments and traded them in for new ones in her wardrobe.

* * *

It was colder than it looked outside, much to Clara's discomfort, and the chilly breeze that had claimed some in the town to sickness a few days earlier was still lingering, but Clara bundled up safely before following everyone outside to the sigh of something very unpleasant.

"Mr. Miller, ride back for the coffin cart." Baltus said urgently to one man next to him.

"The rest of you keep a sharp lookout." He said, glancing at his daughter. Clara nodded slowly and kept her crystal orbs in the shadows of the forest.

The sound of more hoof beats made her look up in fright, only to see the small old Gunpowder making his way over to the group. On him sat the constable, whose name Katrina told her was Ichabod. He guided the horse to them before trying to remove himself from the saddle.

"Don't worry! I'm here now!" he said, while still trying to get free from the saddle. Clara couldn't help but roll her eyes. Yeah, she was starting to shake in fear.

Baltus gave Ichabod a strange look before the constable made his way over to the decapitated body lying in the center of the circle.

"The fourth victim, Jonathon Masbeth." Lancaster remarked.

Ichabod looked down at the body, clearly disgusted. "I see…and the head?"

"…Taken…" Phillips stuttered, earning a shudder from the constable.

"Taken." He repeated. Looking thoughtful, he walked back towards Baltus. "Interesting, very interesting."

"What is?" Baltus asked.

"In headless corpse case of this sort, the head is removed to prevent identification of the body." Ichabod said, not meeting Baltus in the eyes.

"But we know this was Jonathon Masbeth!" Baltus insisted.

"Precisely, so why was the head removed?"

"Why?"

"Right!"

Moving over from the baffled Baltus to the doctor, Ichabod spoke quickly.

"You have moved the body?"

"I have." Lancaster confirmed.

"You must never move the body!"

"Why not?"

"Because…" Obviously not wanting to continue, he strode away from him, leaving the doctor confused.

Clara raised an eyebrow at the constable's antics, until he made his way over to her. "Miss Van Tassel mentioned you were out last night. Did you happen to see or hear anything?"

Curse that Katrina. Always a tattletale.

Clara shook her head. "No sir." Lying was something she was doing often the past few days, but she couldn't help it.

Ichabod narrowed his dark eyes for a moment as if trying to read hers, but moved away and examined the huge hoof prints left in the dirt.

Trying not walk on the huge tracks, the constable started muttering. "The stride is gigantic!"

Once at the very start of the group, he took a second glance at the body, which was conveniently lying right in the middle of the torn up dirt.

"The attacker rode Masbeth down…" Ichabod started, pretending like he was indeed the killer and galloped down towards the body and then passed it. "…turned his horse…" he turned back to face the group and then stopped. "…and came back…came back to claim the head."

Clara blinked. Wow, that was truly remarkable. She looked away however because she had ever right to feel the guilt inside her. She could have stopped this death, but she didn't. Was she that scared?

She didn't notice, being lost in her own thoughts, that Ichabod had poured something near the neck wound and muttered something as it started to sizzle on the ground. He was now wearing a pair of huge monocles or something like that and was inspecting the ripped flesh. He jerked away with a cry of disgust before murmuring.

"Interesting."

"What is?" Baltus asked, not quiet understanding what had happened.

"The wound was cauterized the very instant…as if the blade itself was red hot, yet no blistering, no scorched flesh." The young constable said, turning to everyone.

"The devil's fire." Phillips said quietly and Clara stiffened. The horseman. He had murdered Masbeth. The young girl let out a soft sigh.

* * *

Placing a hand on her friend's shoulder, Jacob Masbeth, Jonathon Masbeth's only child, gave her a sad smile. Clara felt a wave of sympathy for the young child. She knew what it was like to feel like she had no one.

"It wasn't your fault." She whispered to him gently.

"Perhaps it wasn't, but I still could have stopped him from going there in the first place." Jacob said, his eyes sparkling a bit.

Clara and Jacob were not close in age, but were closer in friendship. When the younger Masbeth was born, Clara had been one of the first to actually look after him because of his father's job and his mother had grown ill after child-birth, even though Clara had only been 12 at the time.

Jacob looked back as everyone retreated from the gravesite of his father, his dark hazel eyes rested on Ichabod and he looked at Clara.

"I'll be back."

Clara looked confused, until Jacob called Ichabod's name and started running over to him. Clara followed, not sure what the young boy would ask the constable.

Turning to them, the constable greeted them appropriately.

"Ah your young Masbeth and Miss Van Tassel of course." He said, bowing his head slightly to her. Clara nodded in return.

"I was young Masbeth, but now the only one. Masbeth at your service sir." Jacob said, obviously still sad at the death of his only parent. "In honor bound to avenge my father."

"I see. Well one-and-only Masbeth I thank you, but your mother shall need you more than me." Ichabod said. Clara narrowed her eyes. It was obvious that he was telling the young boy he really wasn't needed.

"His mother is gone sir. Died shortly after child birth as it were." Clara said, resting one hand on his shoulder.

"And you have no one to serve you. I am your man sir!" Young Masbeth insisted.

"Yes and a brave one, but I cannot be the one to look after you." Ichabod said, bringing Jacob's eyes into sadness again.

Patting him on his shoulder, he responded. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

Like that was to make up for shunning him! Clara glared at the young constable. Who did he think he was? The king of England?

"Don't worry Jacob; there is always room in the Van Tassel house for you." Clara said, earning a soft, but clear smile.

"My thanks to you Clara. You have always been so kind to me." Young Masbeth said softly to her, still mourning into his father's grave.

Clara smiled, giving him one more pat on the shoulder before taking her leave towards town. Before she could leave the very limits of the gravesite, she heard Ichabod call to Young Masbeth.

"Find a place in the Van Tassel servant's quarters. Wake me before dawn. I hope you have a strong stomach."

Clara shook her head. So maybe he did have a heart, somewhere deep deep down.

* * *

**Read and Reveiw please!:)**


	7. Purity and Innocence

**So sorry this chapter took so long and is so short, but I have been so busy. Please reveiw because it is the only thing that keeps this story going!:)**

It was extremely dark out. Not even the moon's lunar glow was shining on the earth. The air was chilly and dark clouds covered the stars from view.

"Why am I out tonight, of all nights?" Clara muttered to herself, picking out the eggs out of the nests. She looked them over carefully before placing them gently in the basket. She had forgotten to do some of her chores because of all the excitement of today and was forced, by Katrina mostly, to do them tonight.

Looking up at the cloudy sky, she groaned, hoping before she walked out of the warm house it would be light out, but luck was just not on her side tonight.

That statement seemed to be more truthful then she would have wanted it to because there was a rustle of bushes near the hen house. Clara looked up, a small smile gracing her lips. Maybe he was back again.

Walking out into the dark night, she could see a dark figure, standing right in front of her. Not wanting to seem as stupid as to walk up to a mysterious person, she spoke shakily.

"He…Hello?"

The figure turned around and most of Clara's surprise came from the fact that this person had a head. Although, she could see some familiar features and the distinctive dark brown hair.

"James?" she whispered.

Walking up to her, the man her age named James smirked. "Clara. I did not expect to find you out here…late at night…all alone."

His tone was scaring Clara and she backed up a bit. "Yes well…I had to finish a few things before bed."

James nodded, his eyes straying away from her piercing ice blue orbs. "Hm…I can see, but why not with someone else? You are not safe out here in the dark." He was straying too close for Clara's comfort.

Backing up against the wall, Clara tried to stall. She had met James when she was in grade school. Maybe even before that. He was in love with her and promised her that she would be his…forever.

"What do you want James?" her tone had a warning snarl to it.

James only smirked, leaning closer to her. "Clara. You know what I want."

Clara narrowed her eyes with anger. "I know. Me is it? Well you'll have to wait because I'm not in the mood for throwing my life away."

James just shook his head. "Clara. It won't be so bad. You know I would always take care of you."

"James. If you truly loved me, you would wait." She growled defensively.

"I'm not leaving without something of yours." James countered, his warm breathe near her cheek.

Clara kept her hard glare on him. "Then what do you want James? Anything you want, I'll give you."

The man nodded slowly and looked like he was thinking hard before his expression became one that frightened Clara. "I have something."

"What do you want James. I don't have all night." Clara said impatiently.

"Your innocence."

Clara's eyes widened. "Pardon me?"

James gave her a glare of his own, telling her he was serious. "You heard me."

Clara was now getting extremely uncomfortable. "You…you want my…"

"…purity. Exactly." James finished his hazel eyes narrowed dangerously.

Clara blinked and felt fear bubbling inside her. She eyes the door behind James but knew that she would never get there in time or before he could touch her. Although before she could think a second thought, James grabbed her left arm roughly, earning a yelp from the raven colored-hair girl. Slapping a hand over her mouth, he pulled her closer.

"If you tell anyone, or if anyone hears us, I will make your life miserable. Understand?" he hissed threateningly.

Clara nodded, tear forming in her eyes. James seemed satisfied and pushed her to the ground, making her whimper. He then proceeded to remove her's and his clothing, Clara now feeling the cold night air.

As James ripped her innocence from her, her soft cries, whimpers and yelps were not heard by anyone but a dark figure on the top of a huge hill near town. The figure was on a huge black horse, one hand gripping an axe and the other clenched with fury.

* * *

"Not to worry Clara. I'm sure I will not tell anyone." Doctor Lancaster said sympathy in his voice.

"But what if I'm…I'm…" Clara couldn't bring herself to say it. Once James had left her last night, defenseless and shaking, she brought herself into her house quietly without waking anyone and into the bathroom where she used some cold water to clean off the blood that was streaming down her slim thighs. Wiping the tears from her blood red eyes, she had to quietly walk into the room she and Katrina shared, she had to resist whimpering with pain as she laid herself on the bed.

"Pregnant?" I can't know for sure for a few weeks." Seeing Clara's scared expression, he gently touched her shoulder. "Don't worry. You'll be fine if anything happens." Clara nodded, but was still unsatisfied.

However, before Clara could say anymore or even turn for the door, said door slammed open and in came Ichabod, young Masbeth and Mr. Killien. Both Clara and Lancaster jumped at the sudden intrusion. Clara wrinkled her nose as she saw they brought in a coffin.

"This is most irregular constable." Lancaster stuttered as the coffin was dropped rather harshly on the ground.

"I should hope so doctor, but we need to operate immediately." Ichabod said, avoiding Clara's eyes.

"Operate?" Clara muttered.

"She's dead." The doctor finished her thoughts for her.

The constable looked rather baffled, but he spoke calmly. "When we say operate, I mean of course I will need the operating _table_." The doctor looked rather offended, but Clara just smirked with amusement.

Looking at the rotting body on the table, Clara sniffed. That was her friend, Emily Winship. Wiping a stray tear from her eye, the constable was talking again.

"Once more the…neck wound cauterized. And the…sword thrust to the stomach also cauterized, but for what purpose?" he wondered aloud.

"To what is your purpose I wonder." Lancaster muttered a little too loud and Clara stifled a giggle.

Picking up one of the odd tools Ichabod had scattered around him, he looked at it curiously. "What manner of instruments are these?"

Ichabod twitched before he roughly snatched the tool away. "Some of my own design."

After a brief second of silence, Ichabod started to shoo everyone out of the room. Once outside, Clara sat down on one of the near by logs and rested her chin in one of her hands, elbow balanced on her knees. She looked over and Jacob and smirked as the young boy looked rather anxious. Whatever the constable was doing in there sounded quiet noisy for she heard the clanking of objects and a few yelps, almost making her laugh. However, Ichabod came out in just an hour or so, but he was covered in blood.

"I am finished." He announced and Clara looked in surprise.

"What in god's name have you done to her?" Reverend Steenwyck's voice sounded accusing and harsh.

"We are dealing with a madman." Constable Crane seemed to ignore Steenwyck's question and went on with what he was going to say.

"What have you found out Constable?" Phillips asked.

"The Widow Winship was with child." Ichabod said and Clara gasped. Emily? Pregnant? The fear of her womb swelling up made her shiver. She had only hoped that James had not made her fertile, but still, her innocence was gone and she could never get it back because of him.

Walking up to Ichabod she pondered nervously. "Constable?"

He looked rather startled but calmed himself, no longer avoiding her eyes. "Yes Miss Van Tassel?"

She winced as he said the "miss" because she was almost no longer one. Ichabod noticed her strain and narrowed his eyes.

"Are you alright?"

Clara nodded, running her hand through her hair before taking a deep breathe and slowly letting it out.

"Um, what is the probability that when a man and a woman…engage in sexual activities that the woman becomes pregnant?" she stammered.

Ichabod looked at her suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"

Clara shuffled nervously. "Just asking." She murmured.

Ichabod shrugged. "Depends. Could be common, could be rare. Depends on what body type you are."

Clara groaned a little too loudly. She then widened her eyes as Ichabod's narrowed. "Miss Clara?"

Clara looked around before she quietly whispered to him. "You know James Swindle?"

Ichabod nodded. "Fine young gentleman. Why do you ask?"

Clara gulped. "Well, last night he…he…" she couldn't bring herself to say it so she looked at the ground.

She then felt a strong hand on her shoulder and she looked into the normally skittish constable's eyes. "Clara. You can tell me anything. I won't tell a soul."

Clara nodded. Taking a deep breathe, she spoke again. "He…he raped me." He voice was barley a whisper.

Ichabod looked a little surprised. "Why haven't you told anyone?"

Clara looked up, hearing concern in his voice. "He…he threatened to make my life miserable if I do."

Ichabod sighed slightly. "Clara, you shouldn't be afraid of that, but I will keep my promise."

Clara brightened. "Thank you constable!" she said happily and hugged him tightly around the waist. Ichabod looked startled at first but smiled slightly before patting on her head like a small child.

"Your welcome." He replied.

Clara smiled and walked away from him, hoping keeping secrets was one on the constable's good qualities.


	8. Mindless Killing

**Reveiws are all I ask for, please!:)**

"Why am I coming with you?" Clara asked, still trying to balance herself on top of Gunpowder, only managing to fall off the small horse. The male was nothing like her mare Luna. Ichabod chuckled slightly and held out her hand, helping her up.

"Because, Phillips will listen to you if he does not me." He replied, getting her straight on his horse.

Clara sighed inwardly, but put her arms around the constable's middle to hold on. She felt him shiver and she removed her arms from around him. I'm sorry…did I…?"

"No. I'm sorry. I'm quiet careful when people touch me now." He said quietly.

Clara rolled her eyes. "I've noticed."

Ichabod gave her a sideways glance, mock hurt spread on his face. "Really?"

Clara smiled. She was getting to really like Ichabod. He was sweet and sensitive, two things she always looked for in men.

She then wrapped her arms around him again and let her cheek lean against his slender back, keeping the wind out of her face.

The ride seemed to last for no more than a few seconds before Ichabod jumped off, quickly helped her down and walked over to the magistrate, who was just pulling up as well.

"What are you running from Magistrate Phillips?" he asked, getting in front of the portly man, Clara right behind him.

"Danm you Crane!" the drunken man slurred out.

"You were a mind to help me?" Ichabod quickly continued.

"Yes and it put me in mortal dread of…"

"Of what?" Clara asked.

Phillips looked at her. "Clara, you should not be out so late at night. Your father would be worried."

Clara blushed as Ichabod looked at her funny. "But the constable will protect me." She mumbled.

Ichabod smiled slightly before he turned his attention back towards the man in front of him. "As Clara said, of what?"

"Of powers of which there is no defense." The magistrate said fearfully.

Ichabod immediately changed the subject. "How did you know the widow was expecting a child?"

"She told me." He answered.

"Then I deduce you are the father." The constable said triumphantly.

"I'm not the father." Phillips said shaking his head.

"Did she tell you the name of the child's father?" Ichabod asked.

"Yes she did. She came to me as advice as town magistrate to protect the rights of her child. I was bond by my oath of office to keep the secret but…"

"You believe the father killed her." Ichabod finished.

"The horseman killed her." Phillips said, shaking his head once more.

Clara stiffened at the thought of the Hessian. However, the constable was not finished.

"How many times do I have to tell you there is no horseman. There never was a horseman. There never will be a horseman. What is that thing?" he said, looking at the wooden material Phillips always carried around.

Snatching it away, Phillips stiffened slightly. "My talisman, it protects me from the horseman."

Ichabod looked at him with disbelieve. "You're a magistrate and you fill your head with such nonsense, now tell me the name of…" he didn't get to finish because the sheep that were crowed around us earlier were now bawling uncontrollably and running away.

Clara and Ichabod looked at each other confused before the scarecrow started turning, pointing towards them. A sound of a neigh broke the night silence and Phillips started stumbling away, obviously running from something. Both Ichabod and Clara turned to see something both surprising and shocking. The horseman.

He rode Daredevil in a fast manner, passing Ichabod and Clara in a quick gesture. Rising up towards Phillips, he raised his sword and all Clara heard was that sound. That horrible sound of flesh being sliced by a sword. Looking up, she screamed.

Phillips's head rolled down the hill, towards Ichabod and in between his legs, making him shudder. The Hessian however was riding closer to them. Clara knew he would not hurt her, but she wasn't sure about Ichabod.

But the horseman gave not mention to Ichabod, only stabbed the head with his sword and rode off. Ichabod then proceeded to faint, making Clara cry out.

"Ichabod! Wake up! Please!"

However, her cries were drowned out from Ichabod's mind as he was now fully unconscious.

* * *

"Has he not come out at all?" Baltus asked and Katrina, Clara and Jacob all shook their heads.

Baltus entered the room, baffled to see Ichabod cowering beneath his covers in the small bed in the corner of the room.

"It was a headless horseman!" he exclaimed.

"Constable Crane…" Baltus tried to speak.

"But it was headless horseman!" he cried out again.

"Of course it was, that's why you're here." Baltus said softly.

"No you must believe me! It was a horseman, a dead one…headless!" he whimpered.

"I know, I know." Baltus tried to soothe him.

"You DON'T know because you were not there! It's all true!" he yelped.

"I know it's true. I told you. Everyone told you!" Baltus insisted.

"I…saw him…" Ichabod said quietly before he fainted and Clara sighed, Jacob speaking her thoughts.

"I guess its back to the city then."

* * *

"Clara, be sure to be careful and not get lost again." Katrina said playfulness in her voice.

Once seated on Luna securely, she narrowed her eyes. "I won't, don't worry."

Kicking her horse gently, she made her way into the Western Woods, hoping to find some answers. Caressing her amulet she always wore, she sighed softly before making her way in the heart of the haunted forest. Riding along, she kept looking over her shoulder, not wanting to be snuck up on.

Coming towards a small cave looking place, she got off her horse and knocked on the door. Suddenly, it opened, a voice whispering, "Come in…quickly."

Clara made her way inside the dimly lit cottage and look towards the crone behind her. "Please. I need your help."

The crone merely just walked over to her fire, not answering her question at first. After a moment that seemed like eternity, she finally spoke. "You are his daughter, are you not?"

Clara's eyes widened. "Pardon?"

The crone faced her. "He has spoken for you before."

Clara was too confused to try and ask how Baltus had met the crone. "Who has? Baltus?"

The crone now rose and faced the young girl. "He has not told you yet, has he?"

Clara gulped. "Uh no." She had no idea what the crone was talking about, but before she could reply, she shook her head. "I came to ask you if…if I'm…"

"With child?" the crone asked and Clara was taken aback.

"Yes." She answered. The crone's old hand reached out and touched Clara's flat abdomen, making her shiver. After a few brief seconds, the crone looked at her.

"No. You are not."

Clara sighed with relief and bowed her head, grateful. Before she could speak, she heard hoof beats outside. Looking around frantically, she looked to the crone.

"That's may be two people from my town. Don't tell them I've been here!" she said, rushed, but the crone calmly bowed her head.

"You have my word." She said and Clara nodded slightly, slipping out an open window in the cave, hoping Ichabod wouldn't see her like this.


	9. Consider the Circumstance

**Wow, this chapter took a long time, but it's for my readers so I had to do it. You guys know the drill though, read and reveiw and  
I'll be happy and do more chapters!:D**

**Thank you guys!**

"Halt and turn I have a pistol aimed!"

Clara rolled her eyes momentarily and then turned to face the constable, eyes obviously board. However, Ichabod was surprised.

"Clara! What are you doing here I might have killed you!" he said, making his way to her side, well her horse's side, but it really didn't matter.

"Because…no one would go with you." She said, thinking of an excuse quickly.

Ichabod smiled slightly. "Well then I am twice the man." He said and took Clara's gloved hand. The raven-haired girl smiled and blinked her ice blue eyes at his gentleness towards her.

"It is your white magic." He said and Clara's smile grew a little brighter. She slowly tilted her head towards him and he did the same. Clara's lips were a few inches from his and nothing could spoil this moment…

"Pardon my intrusion, but I think you had better have a look at this." Jacob said, blushing at seeing the two about to kiss. Ichabod hid his embarrassment by walking in front of young Masbeth, while Clara gave him a playful glare.

Clara rode Luna over to where Jacob was talking about and tided her reins to the nearest tree, only to be faced with a sight that startled her. The tree in front of her was twisted and gnarled, bent into every shape possible. Clara looked at it in horror before Ichabod walked over to it and wiped his finger on a piece of bark.

"Blood." He said hoarsely, before grabbing an axe and shakily motioning for them to stay behind him.

"Stay where you are."

He began hacking at the tree, red liquid spurting all over him making Clara step back with her hands around Jacob's shoulders. Ichabod then dropped the axe and, with great disgust, started pulling off pieces of bark, covered in the liquid.

"What is it?" Clara asked, stepping forward a bit.

"Just stay where you are and don't move." Ichabod repeated his command. After some time and a pile of bark and branches of the ground, Ichabod sighed heavily and pulled off another piece of the tree only to be faced with a horrifying sight.

Dozens of head, bloody and without any body rolled out, making Ichabod's eyes widen. Jacob turned his eyes away when he saw the head of his father, burying his face in Clara's shoulder. She held him comfortingly.

"He tries to take the head back with him to the Netherworld, but they will not pass." Ichabod murmured.

Clara tried hard not to gag at the sight. She gently stroked Jacob's short hair and murmured to him softly.

"This tree is a gateway between two worlds." Ichabod began again and started to climb up the tree.

Clara watched him reach the top.

Upon reaching the top, Ichabod found sticking out of the ground a sword. He remembered the story Baltus had told him about how the sword was the horseman's grave marker.

"This ground is disturbed. The soil is loose." Ichabod said, examining the ground below him.

"Bring the shovel." He commanded towards Jacob, who broke away from Clara's grasp and clutched the two shovels in both hands. Reaching the top, he helped Ichabod dig through the soft ground.

Once reaching the bottom, they found a skeleton, a headless skeleton. Vines and old twigs covered it. Jacob narrowed his eyes before sliding down the tree and getting the rifle, standing close to Clara. The young girl smiled warmly at him. She looked up towards Ichabod again as he was still shoveling out dirt from the ground. However, sometime later, he threw the shovel down and spoke again.

"The head…it's missing." He whispered, but it was loud enough for Clara and Jacob to hear him.

"That is where the horseman returns to the grave, to take heads so his own will restore to him." Ichabod said looking up as lightning spilt the air.

Clara's eyes grew sad. A stab of pity pierced her heart towards the horseman's position. All he wanted was his own head back, like a child looking for a lost dog. But if that all he wanted, then why was he killing innocent people?

Her thoughts were interrupted when the heads in the hole Ichabod had made earlier started to make a strange noise. Well, maybe not the heads, but then again, trees don't make sounds either. However, is frightened her a bit.

"Ichabod…" she called to him, an edge on her voice. Before any of them could react though, the heads were falling back into the tree, like they were being sucked in. As if by some sort of magic, the lean muscular body of Daredevil sprang from the tree and landed in front of them, the Hessian himself seated on him. The horseman then drew his sword and angled his body so if he had his head, he would be looking straight at Clara. She stepped back a bit, only to have Jacob, gun in hand, lower the weapon as the horseman rode off quickly.

Ichabod seemed to waste no time as he jumped from the top of the tree and made his way over to Gunpowder. Clara did also and right before Ichabod was about to protest her going, she replied. "I have to come."

Ichabod didn't wait a heartbeat before he positioned himself on his horse, pulled Clara up and rode off, Jacob a little less quickly getting ready to ride back to town.

Ichabod followed the loud sounds of Daredevil's hooves hitting the ground only for a short time before he couldn't hear them anymore. Frustrated, he sighed.

"It's not your fault." Clara said."

Ichabod looked behind him at her and gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

Clara removed her slim arms from around his middle and sat up, sighing deeply. "It's not your fault. I know my father says it is, but…" she trailed off the mention of her father.

Ichabod narrowed her eyes. "Clara, is something wrong?"

The young girl looked up. "Well, you know the old crone in the forest?"

Ichabod twitched slightly at the mention of the old witch. "Yes, I do."

"Well, today I went to see her to see if James…you know…but she said something about my father speaking of me to her. Baltus has not left the town since I was brought on his doorstep."

Ichabod looked at her, his chocolate orbs burning into her ice blue ones and he could see worry and fear in them. Whatever was going through her mind right now seemed to be taking her over.

Obviously wanted to change the subject, Ichabod cleared his throat awkwardly and spoke up. "Well, you have helped me greatly with this case."

Clara smiled slightly at him. "Yeah, but I still don't know why the horseman is killing people. He seemed so gentle when…" she then clamped her mouth shut.

Ichabod instantly turned to look at her. "What did you say Clara?"

She shook her head. She could not tell Ichabod about her accounts with the Hessian. However Ichabod narrowed his eyes.

"Clara, what did you say?"

"Nothing." she said a little too quickly. She was not going to tell no matter what.

Ichabod's narrowed eyes softened a bit but still kept the serious look. "Clara…"

She groaned. "Please don't give me the guilt trip."

"I'll keep doing it until you tell me." He said a mischievous glint in his eyes now.

Clara narrowed her eyes playfully before she sighed and shook her head. "Fine, but you have to promise not to tell anyone."

Ichabod nodded. She then sighed before she spoke again.

"I…I've seen the horseman before…a couple times before."

Ichabod looked puzzled.

"I've seen him…up close."

Ichabod still looked confused. "Is that bad? I'm sure people in town have too."

"He touched me." She said and Ichabod's eyes widened.

"He what? Did he hurt you?" he asked, frantically. Clara stropped him as she touched his cheek softly.

"No. That's the weird part. He didn't." she said, before looking down. She must look stupid in front of him, but knew she would have to tell someone. She didn't even tell Katrina or Jacob, her closest friends.

Ichabod didn't speak for sometime but then raised her chin slowly to make her look at him. "Clara…your adopted right?"

She nodded but then saw where he was going and her eyes widened with fear. "No Ichabod, no. There…it just can't be."

He sighed but looked at her again. "You have to consider that circumstance Clara."

"But both my parents are dead!" she cried, as if almost trying to believe it herself. She then looked at Ichabod square in the eyes to see he was serious.

"But…"

"Clara, it's just a guess." He reassured, even though privately he knew this was a theory he should look into without poor Clara knowing.

All of a sudden, both of them turned their heads sharply to hear a shriek of a young boy back towards town. Ichabod quickly pulled Gunpowder's reins and the horse shot off, towards Sleepy Hollow.

* * *

"Oh my God." Clara whispered as she saw her adopted sister's love, Brom and the horseman engaging in combat. However, Brom was bleeding from a knife in his leg, obviously weakened. He was ticking the Hessian off though, like digging himself deeper in a hole.

"Stay here." Ichabod said to her before he ran towards Brom, who was now reaching for some oddly shaped knives. Clara moved Gunpowder close enough so she could hear them.

"Wait, he's not after you." Ichabod protested, but Brom pushed him away stubbornly.

"I'll get him." He growled and launched after the Hessian again, even though he was clearly outmatched. Ichabod joined in too with a long scythe like tool. He swung until the blade hit its mark; right in the middle of the Hessian's back.

Pulling Brom away, he spoke sharply. "We cannot win this!" Brom seemed to agree with him and they both ran away from the still confused ghost. However, the horseman pulled the knife from him and made his way to the roof of the overhanging bridge making Clara's eyes widen. She almost called out to Ichabod and Brom, but all of a sudden, the horseman's body faced her from the roof and as if by a magic spell, he was telling her to be silent. Her crimson red amulet was glowing too and her eyes widened even more. She could not speak.

She stiffened when she saw the horseman jumped behind the two and stick his sword right through Ichabod, throwing him over his shoulder. Clara's eyes widened with horror.

"Ichabod!" she screamed, running to his side. She didn't care if the horseman killed her now. She wanted Ichabod.

He looked up at her and then towards the horseman and Brom, still fighting. But soon, the sound Clara hated so much pierced her ears and she saw Brom, well the two haves of him, fall to the ground. She gasped loudly and the horseman faced her and Ichabod. She clutched his arm tightly, her eyes narrowed at the ghost.

The Hessian was rather surprised that Clara was here, but hid it by twirling his weapons and turning away. Ichabod however fainted, making Clara cry out.

"Ichabod! Come on, not again!" She cried.


	10. Bewitched Me

**Sorry for the threatening note, it's just I don't want to be writing for no one, even though thats okay now. I'm so happy and thankful that so many people are still here and want be to update. Sorry for being selfish.**

**Heres a new chapter. It's kind of short, but it's all I could do last night as a sorry to you guys.**

"Remarkable. A wound like this should have killed him but he needs no stitching and there is hardly a loss of blood." Clara heard Lancaster say, checking Ichabod's shoulder wound. She had run all the way to her house to tell her father what had happened. Brom was dead and Ichabod had a fever now. The horseman was gone and Clara was still confused. To herself, she wondered if this terror would end.

However, she was jolted out of her thoughts as Ichabod gasped awake, startling the doctor.

"You must be still, the fever is on you." He said softly. Ichabod was sweating and his breathing was shallow. Clara knew he was in pain, but she was helpless to help him. Her sister was making something for him though. Clara hoped that it would ease his pain a bit.

"Clara…" he whispered. Baltus turned to look at her and she politely stepped in front of him and Lancaster, now by the constable's side. Taking his clammy hand, she gently brushed the loose black strands from his face, only to be looked at by his feverish brown eyes.

"I'm here Ichabod." She whispered, hoping her father would not distinguish the caring and love in her voice. She looked to the side of her to see the doctor giving her a knowing soft smile.

Before she could say anything more, Katrina made her way over and handed Clara the small potion she had made. Clara nodded thanks to her sister before leaning down to the constable.

"Drink this, it will help." She said.

Ichabod however started speaking, this time towards Katrina, the blonde's eyes still filled with sorrow at the loss of her love.

"Katrina, I tried to stop Brom but…" he started in a shaky voice.

Katrina cut him off. "Shh, drink this down, it will help you sleep." She sounded calm but Clara knew she was seconds from tears.

"The horseman was not set to kill Brom or me. Had Brom not attacked him…" he tried to start again, but this time Baltus cut him off.

"Later. Rest now." He said.

Ichabod was not finished yet. "I had discovered something. The horseman does not kill at random. His victims are chosen by someone, the person that controls him. Someone who knew where to dig. Someone that holds his skull."

"These are ravings." Baltus protested as he and Lancaster both looked at each other. Clara sighed before she once again held the potion out towards the constable. This time, he accepted it, but fell into unconsciousness again, making her slump her shoulders.

"We should let him be now." Katrina remarked, but Clara shook her head.

"No, what if he needs something else?" she asked. She desperately wanted to be closer to the constable. She would do anything for him.

Her sister narrowed her eyes, before she blinked softly and nodded. "Alright Clara. Watch over him until dawn." She said, before leaving with her father and the town's doctor.

Clara sat on the edge of Ichabod's bed, watching him sleep. She blinked her ice blue eyes and sighed. Over the past couple days; she really got to know Ichabod a lot better. When she first met him, he seemed scared, cold and a bit heartless. Now, he was sweet, smart and even though he was a bit skittish, she knew deep down in her heart that she loved him.

There it was. She loved him. She could think it over however many times she wanted, but nothing would change that. Gently stroking the covers, she looked out the window into the dark woods, thinking for what seemed like hours.

She then turned her attention back to the constable as he started to twist and turn in his bed. She looked, frantic, hoping he was not choking. However, his eyes popped open and her sprang up. Clara caught him in her arms and wrapped her arms comfortingly around his shoulders, gently rubbing his back.

"You had a nightmare." She remarked softly.

Ichabod didn't speak at first, just held on to Clara, gasping a bit as if he had held his breathe under water for sometime. "Yes, things I had forgotten." He replied after sometime. "And would not like to remember."

Clara, a concerned look on her face said "Tell me what you dreamt."

Still not facing her, he spoke again. "My mother was an innocent. A child of nature. Condemned. Murdered, by my father."

Clara faced him now. "Murdered by…" she trailed off.

Ichabod spoke again. "Murdered to save her soul. By a bible black tyrant behind a mask of righteousness. I was seven when I lost my faith."

Clara let go of him, a still concerned look on her face and written in her crystal eyes. "What do you believe in?" she asked.

Ichabod's next answer sounded more scientifically than spiritual. "Sense and reason. Cause and consequence." He then shook his head and remarked a bit quietly. "I should not have come to this place…where my rational mind has been so converted to the spirit world."

Clara then blinked. "Will you take nothing from Sleepy Hollow that was worth the coming here?" her words sounded calm, but inside she was hurt. Did that mean that meeting her was a waste of his time here?

He met her gaze straight on. "No. No, not nothing."

Clara's heart sank a bit farther.

"But perhaps the meeting of a young woman that changed my life…forever." He said next, making Clara smile.

"Yes. Before I even knew who you were, I had met you." She replied.

He nodded, but then his expression darkened a bit. "Yes, before you were confronted by James."

Clara spoke up again. "I thought of the time I really did love James. When we were younger, that was the time. But tonight, I pray for a death note to be delivered to him.. Do think me of wicked for that?"

Ichabod looked at her thoughtfully. "Maybe there is a bit of witch in you Clara."

She gave him a confused look. "Why do you say that?"

He hesitated for a moment before he replied. "Because you have bewitched me."

Clara smiled before she wrapped her arms around him again and closed her eyes slightly. Everything she wanted was falling into place. The only thing she neglected to see was the pair of harsh brown eyes glared in at her and Ichabod, eyes filled with hostility.


	11. Goodbye

**Sorry this chapter is so short, but I have been just really busy this past week and the weeks before that.XD**

**I'm going to be wrapping this story up in the next few chapters. Thank you so much to my loyal readers! It has been a fun story to write and I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

"Clara! What are you doing in my room?" Ichabod asked, no suspicion just confusion in his voice.

Clara turned to face him, an alarmed look in her eyes. She began to think of a quick and somewhat truthful answer. "Because…it is yours. Was it wicked?"

"No. A bit odd though." He said, a bit quietly to himself.

"Where have you gone?" Clara asked, obviously wanting to change the subject away from herself.

"To the notary. I had some questions for him." The constable answered, tucking his papers a bit more closely to him.

"And did you find out anything?" she asked. Both Ichabod and Jacob exchanged a glance before Ichabod replied. "Maybe."

Clara narrowed her blue eyes slightly. He was hiding something from her. It was probably too important for her to fuss about to him without getting another lie.

"My father…" she started only to be cut off by the constable.

"Your father?" he sounded like he was amazed. Clara looked at Jacob only to then start speaking again.

"Yes. My father believes you should return to New York." She hated to say that to him since she wanted him to stay here with her, but if it was what her father wanted, she should respect it.

Ichabod looked far from worried. "Really, why is that?" he asked, walking over to the dresser Clara was leaning against.

"I don't know. Maybe he looked in your ledger and did not like what he saw." She said a playful glint in her eyes as she faced him.

Ichabod looked down in his notebook to see the words he had written earlier, _the secret conspiracy leads to Baltus._ Extremely embarrassed, he closed it quickly, looking back up at Clara. Her eyes shifted to the loose papers he held.

"What have you there?" she asked a note of curiosity in her voice.

"Evidence. I'm sorry but I must work in private." He said, too quickly for Clara to say anything more. She just bowed her head and murmured slightly.

"Then I shall leave you to your thoughts." She walked out of Ichabod's room, only to pause a second to see him stow the papers in one of the drawers.

Closing the door behind her, she sighed, closing her eye slightly. She then opened them and whispered t herself. "I have to get out…now." She then ran down the stairs and grabbed her coat. Putting it over the top of her navy blue dress with white trim, she stepped outside and began to breathe in the winter air.

She then began to walk over towards the Western Woods, making sure no one would see her. She made her way through the dead branches before she walked through the quiet forest. Sighing upon how there was an echo when she stepped on the leaves, she touched one of the trees, gently stroking the bark.

"How did I know I would find you here?" a menacing voice sounded.

Clara's eyes widened with fear as she turned around, already knowing who it would be. She faced James, her eyes facing him evenly.

"What do you want James?" she asked, her voice calm but even.

"I want you Clara. That incident a few nights ago shouldn't have happened so I apologize." The boy said evenly towards her, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You think you can take away my virginity and expect me to forgive you when you say you're sorry?" she hissed, glaring at him.

James growled and made his way over to her, grabbing her slim arms roughly. He then thrust his lips onto her, making her wince at the tangy and sour taste of his saliva. She muffled out a cry of help before she pushed him away.

Glaring at her, the boy hissed. "I'll finish what I was going to do those nights ago Clara. Then I will kill you."

Before Clara could react, he dragged her to the ground, pinning her arms above her head. She let out a scream, but he kissed her again, making her gag a bit. She then cried out again as he lifted up her dress. She closed her eyes and braced herself.

But James's weight was lifted off of her and a loud thud sounded in front of her. Opening her eyes, she saw a sight she never thought she would in a million years.

The Hessian, on top of Daredevil had knocked James away from her, his sword three inches from James's face. The boy's eyes widened with fear before he looked at Clara then back at the horseman, an evil smile perched on his face.

"You witch!" he hissed at her, making her flinch and let out a small whimper. The horseman reacted to that and made a huge thrust. It however missed James's neck and made a loud slicing through his shoulder, making him scream, take one frantic and scared look at the horseman and then run off, his blood in a puddle where he was only a heartbeat before.

Clara looked at James's retreating figure and then at the horseman, who was now facing her, making her back away.

"Please don't hurt me." She whispered. She knew he had just saved her life, but he had just hurt one of her oldest friends. Whatever James had tried to do was horrible, but he was still her friend.

The Hessian seemed surprised at her reaction. He hadn't expected her to be afraid of him, but to be grateful like she usually was.

She was backing away now, only to feel her back hit a tree trunk. Her blue eyes were wide with fear and the horseman got off of Daredevil and started to walk slowly towards her.

Clara cried out, her eyes now producing tears. The horseman stopped right where he was, his invisible expression filled with confusion.

Clara stood up slowly. "Please don't hurt me." She whispered. She was so shaken; she was not thinking that the horseman just saved her life.

She then looked down slightly before she looked at him again. "I'm…I'm sorry but James used to be my friend. I know he tried to kill me but…" she trailed off.

The horseman obviously wanted to comfort her, but he did not step any farther. Clara just looked at him and then wiped the tears from her eyes.

"This can't be happening." She whispered before she looked at him. "What happened to you? How did you end up…headless?"

The horseman looked taken aback before he turned away from her and mounted himself back onto Daredevil again, then rode off.

Clara looked after him. "Wait…what did I say?"

The horseman did not turn back or even look back. Clara suddenly felt extremely alone and afraid. She had a pang of loneliness in her heart. She knew that it wasn't right for Ichabod to leave. But if she burned the evidence, he would have to stay longer. She sniffed before she made her way back to the house.

Walking into Ichabod's room, she opened the drawer and took out the papers carefully. While she was though, tears were falling from her eyes. Pushing the papers in her bag she had made herself, she quickly ran out of the room, out of the house and into the fresh air. Mounting herself onto her horse Luna, she rode over to a place all too familiar.

* * *

"Clara…" she heard a voice behind her and bit back on crying for she knew who it was. Standing up and turning to face Ichabod, she tried so hard not to cry. She loved Ichabod too much to let him know she wanted him to stay for her own selfish desires.

"You took the evidence and burned it." He said, guessing right away why she had been crouching in front of a lit fireplace.

Clara bowed her head. She could not lie to him. She had to make up an excuse. Searching her mind for the right words, they came instantly. "So you would not have it to accuse my father." She said it so calmly, it shocked herself deep down.

"I accuse no one…" Ichabod started, walking to her side, laying a hand on her shoulder. She shook it off roughly, narrowing her eyes at him angrily.

"Why must you accuse anyone in the first place? There is a reason why the horseman kills." She said, watching him roll his eyes and give an exasperated sigh.

"Clara, the horseman isn't a real person." She said. Clara's mouth dropped. Was he not listening to all the stories?

"Yes he is and I'm sure he has feelings just like everyone else!" she cried out, not thinking over what she said before the words came out of her mouth.

"Then why is he killing innocent people?" Ichabod resisted the urge to shout at her. As strong as the feelings towards her were, he couldn't shake his instincts.

"Why won't you listen to something other than a logical explanation?" she cried out, fresh tears pouring down her face.

Ichabod was ready to send back a stinging retort but stopped. What was wrong with her? Why was she defending the killer of innocent people?

"Clara if this is about James…" Ichabod started, but stopped as a pair of piercing blue eyes glared at him.

"It's not his fault you will not listen to me." She whispered. The constable blinked, a bit of hurt in his eyes.

"Clara, I am listening to you. I care about you with all my heart." He spoke the truth, but the young woman disregarded it.

"I think you have no heart and I had a mind to give you mine once." She retorted, glaring daggers at him.

"Yes. I think you loved me that day you followed me into the Western Woods, to brave such peril." He said, stepping one step closer to her.

"What peril was there for me if it is my own father who controls the headless horseman?" she asked, walking back to her horse and them mounting upon Luna but faced Ichabod one more time.

"Goodbye Ichabod Crane. I curse the day you came to Sleepy Hollow." She said, venom dripping from each word. Without waiting for him to respond, she rode off, losing all hope in the one person she ever cared about and loved. All seems hopeless now and Clara knew that something terrible was approaching the town…fast.


End file.
